


behold

by mimescreaming



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Drowning, Frostbite, Gen, Other, and they're both dead, but i dont go into a Whole lot of detail about how they died?? so, idk what else to put yall ily, it is implied they died from eyes in too many places they shouldnt be complications so, kinda., oh oh this isn't a human au. just. just try it idk how to explain but it's not a human au, stay safe yall ily, trypophobia/scopophobia at one point. again it's not Bad but, uhh the lonely uses two human vessels in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22810420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimescreaming/pseuds/mimescreaming
Summary: be·hold/bəˈhōld/verbsee or observe (a thing or person, especially a remarkable or impressive one).
Relationships: Beholding/The Lonely
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	behold

**Author's Note:**

> beholding uses it/its
> 
> the lonely uses they/them (which i find lowkey ironic bc. they/them can also mean plural and the lonely is almost Literally the entity of singularity)
> 
> also shoutout to my friend for helping me with this and catching every time i used it's instead of its for a possessive. ily, you're magnificent 
> 
> (last thing but spoilers for mag 160 in a way)

“You’re damaging the carpet.”

They say nothing as they wipe the cloudy water dripping from their mouth (and nose, and eyes,) onto their sleeve. Their body was drowned, this time. The carpet in this section of its archives will need replacing. 

It can feel their discomfort at being seen, and files the sensation away for another day.

The static is familiar.

A tape recorder cycles back.

“I see you.” It’s a woman’s voice, laced with terror she’s trying to conceal. One of its favorites.

They begin to cross to it. The tape repeats, her voice warped and unfamiliar. 

“I see you.”

And it is alone in its archives once more. 

\---

They were a victim of frostbite, today. 

Even on this shore, frost coats their face. The black spots that cover this body remind it of filth, so it looks away. It knows this makes them happy. 

Today is a good day.

Hundreds of husks wander, forever alone in a crowd of people they do not see. These shells find it so hard to see in this place.

It, however, takes it all in. And decides this place could be described as beautiful. 

The waves hit the feet of the body it’s studying with no hurry- no intent.

Today, it sees an entire sea that is completely empty.

Beautiful.

\---

It cannot feel love outside of a human body. Only intrigue.

It’s concluded that loneliness may be the most intriguing of them all. 

\---

The watcher is the kindest of them, in a way.

For all of its eyes, it only pays attention to them (in any way they can feel) when it’s welcome.

Today, it walked through their fog with them without forcing them to admit they weren’t alone. 

And that, for beholding, was very kind. 

\---

“Love” is a human thing.

It sees “love” in its archivist as he continues to learn to wait and listen and watch. 

It sees “love” in its heart, his thirst for knowledge, and his intent. 

It sees “love” in Jared Coerver. 28. Researcher at The Magnus Institute, London. Lonely. 

And it knows love in the way the fog parts without hesitation before its sight. 

\---

A dead man was in the Institute today. And its eyes, scattered across his body as they were, knew “love” in his realization that no one would mourn him if they couldn’t tell he was dead. 

He was alone.

And it was in love. 

\---

Love is not blind. 

Love is thousands of eyes seeking the agony of a man in the spirit of knowledge.

Love is recordings of endless static for the slight changes in the sounds of the ocean beyond.

Love is sight.

And love is allowing yourself to be seen. 

\---

Today was a very good day.

The watcher surveys its court from countless eyes.

It sees, and is seen. 

It sees connecting threads, and strings pulling taut.

It sees deceptive, twisting senses.

It sees viscera, violence, terminus, filth, dark, vast, and fate. 

And it knows static, and it knows the fog. It knows the waves beyond.

And it knows love.


End file.
